In the heart of Baguio city lives a young man who's bloodline carries the weight of the history the Philippines, at the age of 16 he carried the name Cantura "Ian" Dawag,
The sun had barely risen, casting a golden hue over the slopes of the Cordillera mountains, painting the rugged peaks in shades of amber and bronze. The air was crisp and cool, heavy with the smell of pine and earth — the scent of home.
For Ian Dawag, 18, the mountain's call was not just the rustling of the wind or the shifting of the rocks. It was a part of him, deep in his blood. He lived in Baguio, the City of Pines, surrounded by the comforts of modern life, but the spirit of the Cordillera flowed through him. His Aunt Lia, a quiet but strong woman, had raised him after his parents' untimely death. She had taught him to honor his ancestors, the warriors of their people who had fought to preserve their land and culture.
But as Ian walked the crowded streets of Baguio on this early morning, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The city, with all its noise and chaos, felt disconnected from the deep, ancient rhythms of the land. There were reminders of his heritage — the old Igorot houses, the hanging coffins in the mountains, and the festivals that celebrated their roots. But something inside him longed for more.
Ian had always known that he was different from the other teenagers. While they were glued to their phones or chasing the latest trends, he was often lost in thought about his ancestors — the warriors who had fought to keep their people free. They had been fierce, brave, and selfless. Ian often wondered if he could live up to their legacy. Would he, too, one day become a warrior? Or was his destiny tied to something beyond the mountains, beyond the walls of Baguio?
His Aunt Lia always said that the warrior spirit could not be denied. "The mountains will test you, Ian," she often told him, "and when the time comes, you'll know what path to take."
The city hummed around him as he walked to his university — a place where he studied environmental science, a subject he had grown to love for its connection to nature and his homeland. But despite his interest in saving the world, he often found himself distracted. His mind wandered to old stories of Igorot warriors — tales of men who had faced great challenges, who had fought against enemies far stronger than themselves and emerged victorious.
One particular story stuck with him. It was the tale of the great warrior Pagtugot, a man who had faced an ancient evil and fought for his people's survival. The warrior had made a sacrifice — one so great that it had bound his spirit to the land forever. Ian had always been fascinated by this, especially by the idea of a warrior who had become one with the earth.
As he walked through the busy streets of Baguio, Ian's phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced down and saw a message from his Aunt Lia: "Remember who you are. The mountains are calling."
The words lingered in his mind as he pocketed the phone. The mountains… they always felt like more than just a backdrop to his life. There was a connection, something ancient and deep that he could not explain.
But that connection was not just to the land; it was also to something greater. Something that, over the years, Ian had come to realize was calling him.